Fractured Lives
by Cat5
Summary: Ardeth's past catches up with him, as his failure to completely protect Hamunaptra once before comes back to haunt him.
1. A Beginning

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Very few of the characters are mine - at the moment I can only claim the "mystery woman" and Jaylar. The rest come from "The Mummy" and I have no claim over them - I use them only in the purpose of entertainment.

Set several years after "The Mummy"

Ardeth Bay strode down the streets of Cairo, dark robes blowing gently in the warm, scented breeze that streamed through the city. His dark eyes moved constantly, assessing possible threats, enemies, problems. Since the rise of the Creature several years ago, he had become even more wary than before, developing a vigilance which had dropped little in the past years.

He wished that he were in Cairo for more pleasant reasons, and in truth it might be possible to attend to these "more pleasant" things after - he had word that the O'Connells had returned to Egypt, and he hoped to see them again., He had seen them a few times since they'd met those years ago, and he'd found that he truly did like them, despite their propensity for creating trouble.. As it was, he had come here after one of his men who worked in Cairo posing as a merchant had sent a message saying that he had word of a new danger to the Med-jai. So Ardeth had travelled to Cairo, to hear the warning.

As he rounded the corner of the street, he saw his man, Jaylar, waiting for him. Jaylar was an old friend, as well as a good man, and Ardeth greeted him warmly, clasping hands. Once the greeting was finished, Ardeth went straight to the problem. "You sent me a warning" he said gravely, giving Jaylar time to explain at his own pace.

"I did" Jaylar agreed quietly, looking around cautiously, dark eyes squinting in the blazing sunshine. "I recently met a man who has just moved to Cairo. He is a scholar, of sorts, and he seems to believe that something dangerous is going to occur soon."

"Something?" Ardeth murmured questioningly, tilting his head and staring curiously at his friend.

Jaylar shrugged. "I know that it all seems somewhat vague," he agreed, "but the scrolls that the man has shown me certainly indicate that something may rise sometime over the next few weeks." He shrugged again, seemingly embarrassed.

Ardeth clapped him on the shoulder. "Perhaps we should go and meet this man" he declaimed cheerfully. Perhaps this would not turn out nearly as badly as he had thought. However, despite his new, cheerful outlook, an uneasy feeling began to uncoil in the pit of his stomach.

They strode down the street, heading towards the man's apartment. Jaylar explained to Ardeth how he had met this man, who was called Daniel Axeby. Ardeth noted that the streets were relatively clean and the houses looked moderately prosperous. Despite being a "scholar, of sorts", it seemed that this man could at least afford a decent place to live.

As soon as Jaylar knocked, the man opened the door. Obviously he'd been waiting for them to call. He was a short, dark-haired man. Ardeth didn't like him on sight. There was something almost … reptilian about him. Still, just because a man looks a certain way, it doesn't mean that he acts the same. In fact, the man was exquisitely polite, reminding Ardeth somewhat of Jonathon and his English politeness. The accent was much the same.

The man ushered them through the door, and into a small but comfortably airy room. He gestured them towards seats, but while Jaylar immediately sat, Ardeth declined, preferring to stay standing. He compromised somewhat by leaning against the door frame.

"At least let me offer you a drink" Daniel said cheerfully. "Wouldn't want me to look like a bad host, now." Ardeth decided that he could at least accept a drink of water, as the day was hot and the air dusty, and Jaylar did the same.

Daniel disappeared for a few moments, and reappeared with three glasses, handing them out to both men and then settling back in his chair. "Cheers" he said, smiling, and then lifted his glass, draining the liquid inside. Ardeth and Jaylar were more conservative, drinking some from the glass.

Ardeth looked carefully at the man. Despite the urgency of Jaylar's warning, seemingly coming from this man, Daniel didn't seem to be at all concerned. Being in the same room as two armed Med-jai should at least give him some cause for concern, and yet, it didn't.

Areth frowned and began to scan the room, while Jaylar nervously prompted Daniel. "You were telling me about the possible disturbance that could be happening soon."

"Yes. Yes I was." Daniel settled back further into his seat, and Ardeth's uneasiness increased as he noticed the man's hand tapping uneasily on the chair arm. His throat seemed unusually dry, despite the fact that he'd just drunk half a glass of water. He lifted it to his lips, draining the rest of the glass, and then dropped his arm, and looked impatiently at Daniel, waiting for him to continue. Even as he did so, some part of him noticed that Jaylar had also just finished his drink.

The room seemed to shimmer, as if heat waves were rising from the ground, but despite the heat of the day, it wasn't that hot. Ardeth's concern increased, and he could see that Daniel was making no attempt to continue, but was merely staring at him, with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Ardteh pushed himself away from the door frame, and as he lost its solid support, his knees began to collapse beneath him. A ringing noise began in his head, and the room began to swirl. He fell to his knees, the glass dropping form his hand and rolling across the floor. Before Ardeth's vision faded into black, he could make out the form of Jaylar, slumped in his chair.

Then Ardeth saw no more.


	2. Splinters of Ice

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I have no claim on any of the characters, except for the "mystery woman", and I do not in any way attempt to make a claim. I write only to entertain.

Ardeth awoke to find himself being dragged across sand. Although the world still blurred and shimmered, it was not nearly as bad as back at the house, and he could determine the shape of a partly ruined temple rising before him. He tried to struggle against whoever held him, but his limbs had no co-ordination, and he had little control over them. 

The air inside the temple was blessedly cool, the darkness a relief from the blazing sun outside. Was it still the same day, or had some time passed? He tried to think of temples that were near Cairo, but his mind failed him, unable to think coherently.

They finally reached a large room, and Ardeth was released. He sagged to the floor, unable to support himself with his bound hands, but doubting that he would be able to, even had his arms been free. The stone floor was cool and gritty against his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to summon greater concentration and focus.

"Thank you. You can go now."

The woman's voice rang out, clear and sweet, and unmistakably English. Also unmistakable was that tone of her voice - the sense of authority not expecting to be disobeyed. Ever. The sound of feet heading away from him told him that her order had been obeyed.

Painfully, Ardeth managed to struggle to his knees, swaying with exhaustion and disorientation. As his vision finally stopped blurring, and proper eyesight returned, he stared at the woman sat before him. The young woman. She had long, golden hair that tumbled in waves around her face and down her shoulders. She was beautiful, but her expression was proud. And cruel. And mocking. Her long, slender fingers were clasping a sword which rested over her knees. A sword which seemed much to large and heavy for her to hold. A sword Ardeth recognised. His own.

"I don't suppose you recognise me". The woman leant forwards, hair tumbling over her shoulder, her voice quietly amused.

"I do". In contrast, Ardeth's voice was ragged, strained, a hoarse voice that he scarcely recognised as his own. The woman raised one flawless eyebrow in a kind of amused curiosity, but Ardeth was speaking the truth. He didn't really recognise her face that well, but he could see in it the features of the girl he had seen years ago. And her eyes were the same. He didn't think he could forget her stunning, dark blue eyes - a colour they rarely, if ever saw among the desert people. Most of the emotions in them were different to the ones he'd seen all those years ago, but there was no mistaking her eyes.

"I'm impressed". The young woman stood up and walked down the steps from the throne where she'd been sat, hefting the sword as she did. She held it in one hand and flipped it around, testing the balance, spinning it so that the blade caught and reflected the sunlight streaming in to the room and sending it spraying out in shards of brightness. Then she caught Ardeth's eye, gave him a sweet smile, and brought the sword crashing down onto the stone ground.. The curved metal sword blade hit the stone and shattered, thousand of tiny fragments sent flying outwards. Some hit Ardeth, and he flinched despite himself. But the metal shards barely hurt him - didn't even pierce his flesh. Because they weren't metal anymore. He stared at the woman, who held the hilt of his shattered sword in her hand. 

"That's impossible" he whispered despite himself. It was impossible that anyone could shatter a metal sword that well-crafted so easily, but the shards that had hit Ardeth weren't metal. They were ice. Even now, the fragments lying around the temple were melting, dissipating. He felt as if one shard of ice had lodged in his heart, sending ice pouring through his veins.

"Just to let you know that all your skill won't be of any use to you here." The woman gave another self-satisfied smile, and tossed the hilt carelessly away. It hit the temple wall and bounced away, falling to the floor. For one long moment the echoes of the contact chimed through the air, and then even they were lost, leaving nothing but the broken hilt of a fractured sword behind.

"I notice that you still wear yours" he commented, nodding towards the slender sword strapped around her waist. She just shrugged, and smiled again. He shivered despite himself, the smile sending another echo of ice shivering through his veins. He had, in his time, faced the minions of the Creature, if not the Creature itself, but a smiling young woman seemed somehow more frightening.

"Why are you doing this?"

The woman took several steps closer and reached down, lifting up Ardeth's chin with one finger and tilting his head towards her. She stared into his eyes, dark-blue eyes blazing with power meeting his own dark-brown eyes, which possessed as much strength of character but much less confidence. For once, she didn't smile. "Revenge" she murmured softly, and as Ardeth stared into the young woman's eyes, both of them remembered the past, the first time the


	3. Life in the Past

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 3 - Life in the Past

In the past:

The tall, broad-shouldered man strode through the doorway of his house, drew a deep breath and summoned his brother with a single shout. "ANDREW".

The roar echoed throughout the house, disturbing servants and owners alike, as they had not expected the return of the ultimate owner of the house for several hours yet. The roar reached the top floor of the house, where Andrew lazed on the bed, reading a book. At the sound he jumped off the bed, and dropping the book on a cabinet as he went, he swiftly jogged downstairs to answer his brother's call.

The noise also reached a young girl, lying on a couch in a ground-floor room, and also reading a book. She frowned, tilting her head slightly, and as there was no more information forthcoming than the repeated bellow of "ANDREW", she slipped off the couch and crept silently to the door.

"Richard" Andrew met his brother cheerfully as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His brother smiled back in what was, for this aristocratic and somewhat grim man, an uncharacteristic and unheard of gesture.

"We," Richard said, clapping his arm on his brother's shoulder, "are going to Hamunaptra. I have found the way."

That night, the young girl crept silently through the house. Shadows twisted the familiar surroundings, making her journey a somewhat nervous one. The cool of the night air penetrated even through the thick housecoat she had thrown on. Successfully negotiating her way through the maze of artefacts and objects which adorned the hallways and, at night, turned it into something of an obstacle course, Rebecca reached the door of her father's study, and stopped, looking carefully around. Reassuring herself that she was alone and undisturbed, she opened the study door, and slipped noiselessly through it. It wasn't locked - either because her father had enough arrogance to assume that no one would dare to steal from his house, his study, or simply because he hid anything valuable or interesting in the study safe before leaving. Either way, it meant her task was a lot easier.

Moving through the study - which was painfully neat - she headed towards a painting on the wall, carefully took hold of one edge and tugged. The picture swung outwards, to reveal behind it the study safe. Rebecca reached out and took hold of the dial on the safe, twisting it to several numbers in turn, and finally pulling on the handle. The safe slipped silently open, and Rebecca stared inside.

There were several things in the safe, indistinguishable in the pale moonlight, but the one she was interested in - the one she had seen in her father's hand - was lying just on top. She grasped it, pulled it out, and walking to the desk, sat down and placed the object on the table. It looked black, although that might just have been the effect of the darkness of the night. It seemed to be made of metal, with Egyptian markings and hieroglyphics on the sides and top. This would lead the way to Hamunaptra?

She turned it round and round, reading the markings upon it, but they seemed to give no clue. Finally, as her fingers ran curiously over the object, the top of it snapped open, fanning outwards. Inside, neatly folded, was a piece of parchment. Very carefully, holding her breath as her fingers felt the fragility of it, Rebecca eased it from inside the object and, unfolding it, smoothed it out onto the table.

There, only dimly perceivable in the light of the moon, lay a map - a beautifully drawn, well detailed map, with the location of Hamuaptra clearly marked. Rebecca stared at it for a long moment, then, as the floor creaked above her head, she pulled in her breath, holding it as she waited for a further sound, one signalling that someone besides herself was awake. However, no more sounds followed, and letting her breath out in a rush, Rebecca began to copy the map onto a piece of paper. Finishing it some time later, she returned the original map to the metal object, the object to the safe, shut the safe and crept upstairs.

Once safely in her room she began to study the map. She didn't feel guilty for what she had done. After all, her father - cold, loveless man that he was - would never have let her see the map, and while she had managed to convince herself that her father's love wasn't necessary, her substitute in life for parental care was the acquisition of knowledge. She leant over the map, squinting in the dim lamplight, carefully plaited hair falling over one shoulder, and through the night she studied, while around her the house slept in peaceful silence.


	4. Family Feeling

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 4 - Family Feeling

Andrew Stevenson carefully navigated his way through the pitching, tossing ship. It was, admittedly, a much quicker way to get to Hamunaptra than travelling by camel, but with this terrible storm that had blown out of nowhere Andrew feared that they might all be killed before they reached the port. Or, at the very least die of seasickness, he thought gloomily. To be honest, he wasn't even sure if the blasted place did truly exist, or whether it was just a hoax as he half suspected. After all, Robert had bought the metal box from the local market, where the natives were always selling "authentic" maps to lost cities. The fact that the seller had sold it for a pittance, and had not even mentioned Hamunaptra, only went someway towards allying Andrew's fear.

He reached the cabin of his niece, and knocked sharply above the sound of the crashing gale. For a moment there was no response, then the door opened, and Andrew smiled at his niece. He was fond of the girl, and heavens knows someone had to be. After all, Robert had no time for his daughter, not deigning to check if she was all right through this terrible storm.

She gave a shy smile in response to Andrew's cheerful, if slightly queasy grin, and gestured him inside. As he stood, dripping, in her cabin, he considered his young niece. Tall and thin, she seemed to try and reduce her height with slightly hunched shoulders, and a habit of never looking people in the eyes. Even now, her face was cast slightly downwards. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a painfully neat, perfect plait, no strand of hair escaping. Her clothes too were perfect and neat - plain brown skirt and white blouse, with a cardigan buttoned over the top. Andrew noted with envy that her pale features showed none of the ravages of sea-sickness that his did.

The noise was mercifully muted in the cabin, and Andrew could at last hear himself speak. "How are you?" he asked.

"Fine, thank you." Her voice was quiet and soft. She risked raising her eyes a little, and giving him another quiet smile. He grinned again, even as he despaired of his chronically shy niece. With a father like Robert and an uncle like me, however did she end up like this, he wondered, although a moments reflection suggested that he had actually just answered himself.

"Do you need anything?"

Rebecca just shook her head, slender, pale fingers smoothing her cardigan.

"Right. Good." He stared at her for a long moment. Heaven knows, he did like the girl, but there was something off-putting about her almost perpetual, nervous silence. He always tried to make the effort with her, if only because Robert didn't, but at times he could understand why Robert didn't. "Apparently this storm should have blown itself out by the time we reach port." He'd have preferred it if it blew itself out while they were still on the ship, but at least they wouldn't have to travel overland in a howling gale. Rebecca nodded again.

"Well, if you need anything, you know where my cabin is."

Rebecca gave another solemn nod, another grave smile, and Andrew gave her a final, cheerful grin, and headed back outside. The noise of the storm was almost a relief after the muted, lamp-lit silence in Rebecca's room. Smart young girl, he thought to himself, but very strange.

After Andrew had gone, Rebecca looked at her reflection in the mirror. She regarded it solemnly. She didn't care too much what she saw, most of the time, but occasionally she looked for traces of her mother. She couldn't see many, except maybe for her eyes, which were a strange dark blue, the same as her mothers had been. She remembered them from her childhood, laughing blue eyes staring down at her. She didn't remember much else, except for the happiness that she'd felt. She was quite glad that she couldn't see any of her father in herself. She sighed once, then turned and headed towards the doorway, putting on her thick overcoat as she went.

Rebecca headed through the ship, and out into the storm.


	5. Thoughts

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 5 - Thoughts

The wind tousled Tarnas Ket's long dark hair, ruffling his clothes, while the rain soaked through him, freezing him to the bone. It had been a very long time since a storm such as this had arisen. He growled in anger. The storm meant that the Med-jai could not attack the ship, would have to wait until it blew itself out before killing the party that hunted for Hamunaptra. 

He sighed, tapping his fingers against the ship's railings. He felt a moment's sorrow for those who would die. He felt but a little for the leader of the expedition - a pompous arrogant Englishman - and little for the diggers, who should have known better than to go to Hamunaptra. For the brother, and the daughter, however, he felt more strongly. Their crime was merely to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Are you looking for something?"

Tarnas spun around, eyes widening in shock, hand leaping for the dagger hidden under his clothes. His panic subsided as he realised that the person who had surprised him was only the young girl. He stared at her for a moment through narrowed eyes. She was strange, even for a foreigner. Her face was pale and drawn, despite the almost perpetual Egyptian sun, and she seemed to always be trying to hide herself. Even amongst crowds of people, she always seemed to be alone. Her expression, usually so dreamy and shy, was now curious and thoughtful, although still shy.

He smiled, and she dropped her eyes before he could meet them. "Looking? No. I was just admiring the storm."

Rebecca nodded. That's what she was here to do as well. The power of the weather, the speed of the wind, ripped her breath away from her, and the rain soaked her to the bone. Despite this, she could hardly keep herself from laughing out loud, from glorying in the weather, and this reflected itself as a sparkle in her eyes, which anyone might have seen had she not kept them downcast.

"Do you believe in it?" The girl's voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it above the howling wind that threatened to tug him away from the railings. The girl tilted her head sideways, eyes flicking over his face and then back downwards towards the water. "In Hamunaptra?"

"I do not know." Ternas looked carefully at the young girl. The wind ripped strands of her hair out from the tight braid she had pulled it into, the rain-darkened hair flying wildly around her head. "But I am not sure it is a good idea to find out."

"Then why are you here?"

Tarnas laughed, white teeth gleaming even in the gloom. He was posing as one of the diggers, along with two other Med-jai. "Because your father pays well" he answered flippantly.

"Oh". The girl continued to stare down at the rain- and wind-churned waters.

"I think, however, that it might be dangerous. There are those who think that our history should be left alone, at least by those such as you. Our history, our legends, whether real or not, are for us, not for you." His anger showed more clearly than he had intended, as he expounded on a subject that he felt so strongly about. It was not for other people to try and interfere in Egypt. They would be better off leaving it alone. These people's arrogant curiosity would, in this case, lead to their deaths.

The girl looked up, tilting her head sideways, and Tarnas could see her considering what he had said, obviously something that she had never considered before. Some part of him hoped that she might take his warning to heart, perhaps refuse to go to Hamunaptra. Finally, she asked him: "If you feel this way, then why are you here?"

"As I said. You father pays well."

She frowned, and they both lapsed into silence, staring down at the water, both alone with their thoughts.


	6. Mistakes of the Past

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 6 - Mistakes of the Past

It was almost morning in the desert. Well, to be more precise, Rebecca thought, it was morning as it was after midnight, but as the sun had not quite risen yet it didn't feel like morning. No one else was awake. The camp was still, with the silence of the desert - a warm, peaceful tranquillity. Rebecca knelt on the floor, carefully brushing her long, blonde hair. Once all the knots were out she gathered it all and began to plait it, slender fingers working carefully, twisting each strand, smoothing each into place. Once done, she fastened it at the bottom, and stood up, brushing the sand from her knees.

The sun would be rising soon, and she felt a need to see it do so away from the camp. She walked away, shod feet making no noise on the sand, leaving only faint tracks behind her. The desert seemed to sing to her, the silence of reality broken by noises she could hear in her mind - faint laughter, speech, the sound of animals, of children, of labour. She stretched, welcoming the heat of the day after the chill of the night, and looked around thoughtfully. Her map suggested that they were near Hamunaptra, were practically next to it. So, where was it? She was beginning to think that it was little more than the myth most people took it to be.

The sun rose, and with it rose something else. Rebecca stared, in awed silence, as the light of the sun revealed before her a great city. "Hamunaptra" she whispered softly. She stood, lost in thought, until sounds from behind her suggested that the camp was beginning to wake up. Finally, she turned, and made her way back.

That evening the darkness of the camp in Hamunaptra was broken only by occasional flickering fires. Rebecca sat at one, ignoring the men sat around her, staring into the flames and thinking about the day. While her father had organised the diggers to break into one of the main entrances, Rebecca had slowly faded into the background. It was a talent she had - being unnoticeable within a crowd of people. Once she was sure she would not be missed, she had left, slipping away through the partially ruined city and, finding a small fissure in the ground, had slipped through and into the tunnels beneath the ground. She had no fear - complete solitude never disturbed her, and neither did the darkness lit only by her wavering torch. The city itself seemed to welcome her. She could hear, more clearly now, the sounds of voices, echoing through her mind, although she knew not what they were saying. She'd returned to the surface only at nightfall, her mind dancing with images from her exploration. They appeared before her as she stared into the flames.

The silence of the city was broken suddenly. The camp dissolved into screaming confusion as masked men on horses charged through the camp, killing everyone in their path. Rebecca scrambled to her feet, and for the first time in years looked for her father. She finally saw him emerging from his tent, rifle in his hands. He levelled it, and began shooting, calmly and methodically, killing each black rider he aimed at. Rebecca ran towards him, hoping for safety. Before she could reach him, two masked riders headed towards him from opposite directions. He shot one, but they were both moving so fast that the other reached him before he could re-aim. A sword flashed in the firelight and then her father crumpled to the ground.

Rebecca stopped, staring at her dying father, while all around her people screamed, and fell, and died. The sounds seemed to echo through her head.

"You bastard". She turned towards the sound of the cry, only to see her uncle leap towards the man, unseating him from his horse and bearing him to the ground. As they landed they both rolled apart and came to their feet. Her uncle had gained a sword from somewhere, and he leapt towards the man, attacking him fiercely. Still Rebecca stood, ignored by all around her. She was only one, fragile girl, not a threat to the Med-jai, not a concern to the diggers who tried to flee and were cut down in their tracks.

Ardeth Bay fought the man who had attacked him. He was, for a foreigner, good with a sword, but not a match for the leader of the Med-jai. They danced back and forth, Ardeth managing several times to cut the man, who was just good enough to avoid Ardeth's blade, turning a fatal blow into a merely painful one. Ardeth's heart was grim as he tried to kill the man. This was not what he wanted. They had to die, that was true, but they could at least expect the mercy of a quick death. Finally the man stumbled, and Ardeth lashed out, killing the man with one quick stroke across the throat.

Rebecca's paralysis broke as she saw her uncle die. She screamed, and leapt forwards towards the man, clawing at his face, ripping away the cloth that covered the lower half.

Ardeth spun as he heard a noise, and someone leapt towards him, attacking him. He felt a momentary pain in his face, and lashed out with his sword, trying to drive his attacker away so that he could gain the distance necessary to kill whoever it was.

Rebecca felt a burning pain slash down her arm and screamed, stumbling away and falling against a broken stone wall.

Ardeth stopped as he heard the sound of a female scream, and for a moment he just stared at the young girl who was cowering against a wall. Her terrified, dark blue eyes captured him, momentarily knocking his breath away. He had never seen eyes of such a colour. The world faded into silence for a second, and then Ardeth came to himself. He hesitated for a moment longer, then raised his sword. She had been to Hamunaptra, she knew the way. She had to die. It would be better for her - what kind of a life would she have, having seen her family die. Before he could advance another step, the girl bolted, running away through the ruins. He chased after her, joined by all his men, who had finished their grim work.

However, despite hunting for six days, and venturing into the bowels of Hamunaptra itself, they never found the girl. Her eyes had haunted Ardeth over the years, he woke from nightmares where they stared at him and pleaded. He questioned, almost daily, whether what he was doing was right, when it forced him to kill women, or children. He questioned it once again, when he had been asked, (by Evelyn, or O'Connell, or Jonathon, he couldn't remember) if what he did justified the killing of the innocent. His answer was, then as always, yes.


	7. Ambitions of Power

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 7 - Ambitions of Power

The present:

Rebecca stared into Ardeth's eyes, remembering those days she had spent fleeing within Hamunaptra. She remembered what she'd lost - her innocence - and she also remembered what she'd found - power. She remembered the voices that she'd heard, made so much clearer by her distress and pain. They had been the voices of the dead - of those buried within Hamunaptra. Her mind had been, in it's distress, so powerful that it had even woken Imohtep from his uneasy slumber of thousands of years, making him, once again, aware of the outside world. She'd heard those voices, learnt from them, and, when she'd finally managed to leave, she'd continued learning. The voices from the dead didn't trouble her now - as her power grew, as she studied and learnt and found that even ancient accounts of magic had some truth in them - she'd learnt how to block them again. Her uneasy childhood, filled with voices, and fear, and lack of understanding, was finally over. But it had cost her so much.

She released her grasp on Ardeth's chin, and stepped backwards, circling around as he tried to struggle to his feet. Eventually he managed to, and stood there, swaying, as she completed her circle and returned to stand in front of him. "How did you do it?" he asked softly, referring to his sword that she had shattered.

She shrugged, smiling wryly. "Magic". Ardeth frowned, and Rebecca's expression darkened in turn. Her left hand came up, casually sweeping her hair away from her face. "Your people can do magic, so why not me?"

Ardeth shook his head. Magic was not exactly what his people could do. There were some - generally the Elders of the tribes, who were able to see into the future somewhat - soothsayers, he'd heard them called, when the rumours whispered around the streets of Cairo. And a few of them could speak to the dead. That, however wasn't magic. He had only ever heard of the Creature itself possessing such powers as this, and he didn't think that this girl's circumstances had been the same.

Rebecca shrugged again. "It's amazing what you can find out, if you look hard enough". She dragged her fingers through her hair again, sleeve falling down around her wrist far enough for Ardeth to see a scar that ran down her arm. The scar he had put there with his sword. Her hand dropped then, toying with a pendant that hung around her neck. It looked Egyptian, as far as Ardeth could tell, some kind of stone trapped in a casing of dark gold, slender filaments twisting together, carefully worked to resemble snakes. The pendant hung on a fine chain around her neck. The stone inside shimmered in the sunshine pouring in from fractured roof, fiery sparks dancing within the glowing dark blue stone. Catching Ardeth's eye, Rebecca dropped her hand with a rueful smile.

"Why are we here?" Ardeth stalled for time, hoping to regain some of the strength that had been leeched from him by whatever drug he'd been given.

Rebecca smiled again, glancing around. "Why, don't you like it here?" She laughed, not giving him time to answer, and gestured around. "This is a very special place. Can't _you_ feel it?" She could, the echoes of the dead, the whispers of power were very strong here. She lifted her hand again, caressing the pendant that hung around her throat. "At midday, when the sun is high, and the time is right, you are going to help me."

"Help you how?" Even as Ardeth questioned, some part of his mind noted that it was at least 24 hours since he had been in Cairo, as he'd met Jaylar a short time after midday.

"By dying." Rebecca's long, slender fingers brushed against the knife belted around her waist. "You die, and I become a god."

"A god." Ardeth shook his head, seeing, not for the first time, the spark of madness within the girl's captivating eyes. Eyes which now sparkled with laughter, shining in the sunlight. A smile once again parted Rebecca's lips, a smile which faded as noise echoed from out in the hallway adjoining the room She took two steps forwards, and then stopped, barely an arms length away from Ardeth, a satisfied smile once again twisting her lips.

Ardeth turned, looking for what she could see. Backing towards him was a man. A man whose back Ardeth recognised, having seen it often, usually whilst running away. 


	8. Enter One Heroic Rescuer

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 8 - Enter One Heroic Rescuer

"That's far enough".

Jonathon jumped as a female voice came from behind him, spinning round and trying to jump out of the way of the men following him at the same time. His first impression impressed him greatly - a tall, young, enchanting woman with mesmerising eyes, and a wave of silky blonde hair. His second, more careful look also showed Ardeth, hands bound and looking fairly groggy and disorientated. Despite the obviously dangerous situation, Jonathan gave Ardeth an insouciant smile. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything" he said cheerfully, nodding towards Ardeth's hands. The Med-jai's eyes opened in indignant anger and he began to reply, when sweet laughter cut him off, the sound chiming through the room.

"Not at all" the tall woman assured him. She gestured at the two armed brutes who had been attacking him, and they both walked away. Jonathon hoped that Rick would be able to cope with them as well as the pair he was already fighting, wherever he was. He still wasn't sure precisely how they'd become separated.

"What are you doing here?"

Jonathon grinned at Ardeth. "Rescuing you. Why? Have you got any better ideas?" Keeping a careful eye on the young woman, Jonathon took a step towards Ardeth, lifting his sword and intending to cut the bindings on Ardeth's hand. Before he could do so Rebecca gestured with one hand and Jonathon yelped, throwing his sword away from him as the handle heated up, burning his hand. The sword lay on the floor for a moment with flames licking the handle, heat bending and distorting the blade before finally flickering out, leaving the warped blade lying on the floor.

"Don't tell me this is another one you're supposed to be keeping locked away" Jonathon groaned, thinking back to Imohtep, and those wonderful little powers he'd been able to use.

"No" Ardeth said coolly, glaring at the woman, "She's just another one I was supposed to kill." As the words left his mouth, Rebecca's own mouth twisted in anger, and she threw her hands out towards him. Twisting ropes of power flared out from them, lashing out at Ardeth and throwing him backwards, slamming him into the wall before finally ending, allowing him to drop to the floor, fighting against the pain. Jonathon rushed towards him, ears ringing with the ear-splitting screaming noise the power had made, eyes aching in the aftermath of the glare. He gently reached out and helped Ardeth to sit upright, where he leant against the stone wall, panting raggedly.

Jonathon looked up, intending to … well, to say something pretty nasty at the very least, but before he could the girl smiled at him, dark blue eyes temporarily melting his heart before he remembered what she'd done. "I know who you are." The girl's musical voice sent shivers down his spine, but something about her eyes - the hint of madness he could see - sent ice water trickling down it in turn, turning the shivers into a shudder of fear. "Evelyn O'Connell's brother, or alternatively, Rick … " She broke off, and mused "I suppose it's Richard, although I was never interested enough to find out…" She shrugged, and continued "….Rick O'Connell's brother-in-law. How many people know you as Jonathon? Except the people you owe debts to, of course?"

"Now hang on a minute…" Jonathon began indignantly, but the girl cut him off once more.

"You're nothing more than a footnote, Jonathon. An assistant to all those talented intelligent people who have done so much to help this world - Evelyn, Ardeth, _Rick_." Her English accent gave a mocking twist to the American name. "I've heard people talking about them. However … both you and I know that isn't the complete picture." She tilted her head, smiling at Jonathon, who felt warmth melting the ice that had begun to form in his stomach, melting the feelings of apprehension. He knew that was what a lot of people thought of him, and whilst he didn't usually mind, it did sting when occasionally, but only occasionally, Evy and Rick felt the same way about him.

Ardeth managed to reach out, grasping Jonathon's sleeve, making him jump and his gaze finally broke away from the woman's beautiful, mesmerising eyes. "She thinks she can become a god, by killing me" he whispered hoarsely, his lungs aching too much to be able to summon a louder voice. He sagged back against the wall, world spinning in front of his eyes again.

"Not 'Think'" Rebecca corrected, glancing briefly up at the sky, and the sun. _Soon be time now_. "Have you ever heard of the god known as Sorus?" She smiled. "You won't have. He was killed by the other gods or so the story goes." She shrugged. "Who believes in stories? No one, except me. Because it's true." She reached up again, touching the pendant around her neck, and again her eyes danced with insane amusement. "All it requires is for someone to die in the right place, at the right time, and then I can take his power. It doesn't have to be you, Ardeth, but I just thought, well, why not? It would be justice, of sorts."

"Why?" Jonathon asked.

Rebecca tilted her head sideways, looking at the two men. Jonathon stood up, moving protectively in front of Ardeth. "He killed my family. Right in front of my eyes." Her expression darkened, eyes flashing, an ugly scowl twisting the perfect beauty of her face. "He destroyed my life. I didn't have much, but he took it away. I'd finally found somewhere I could be happy - Hamunaptra. It called to me. I felt peace there - I could have stayed - I wasn't hurting anyone. He took it away from me. I had to hide for days, amongst the silence, and the voices. They helped me, told me what I should do - Imohtep, and the others. They helped me, when no one else could. He destroyed my life."

"Hardly destroyed" Jonathon commented, trying to block from memory the vision of when he'd camped at Hamunaptra, how Evy and Rick and himself had almost been killed by Ardeth and his men. He understood now why they had to do what they did, but still…

He wasn't sure how to cope with the madness in the young woman. "After all, you've still got a life."

To his relief, Rebecca laughed. "Maybe not. No, it's not completely destroyed, not totally gone. Fractured then. Broken." She tilted her head sideways again, left hand drifting up and playing with her hair. She smiled.

Jonathon turned to see what she was looking at, and then swallowed as he saw Rick dragged in by two of the woman's men. Rick looked in a pretty bad state. "We've got him" one of the thugs said, and Jonathon saw the woman give a wry smile at the man's stating the obvious. "So I can see. Very good. Except, why have you got him? I didn't ask for him alive." She gave a bright smile and gestured with her left hand. Once again a stream of power hissed out, streaming in an eye searing blur across the room, and hitting Rick in the throat. Once it stopped he sagged in the men's' grip, and they dropped him to the floor.


	9. Death and Power

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 9 - Death and Power

Somehow, Jonathon found himself kneeling at Rick's side. He stared down at his brother-in-law, gently reaching out and pressing a hand to his neck. There was no pulse. No life. He knew that as he stared down at Rick's face, no longer graced with his almost perpetual smile. No amusement lurked at the back of his eyes, no life animated his expressive face. Jonathon wept, thinking of his sister, sat in her room back in Cairo, where she had stayed to look after Alex while the men went to save Ardeth. Tears dripped down his face as he remembered Rick kissing Evy goodbye, how she'd warned them both to be careful.

He didn't know how long he knelt there, didn't feel the touch of Ardeth's hand on his shoulder, and didn't see as Ardeth turned to confront Rebecca.

Her eyes were dark and grave as she stared at Jonathon. Then she shrugged, and turned her gaze back to Ardeth, an amused smile curving her lips.

"That is supposed to be justice?"

"It serves well enough. For now."

"He didn't do anything to you. It is me you wish to see punished."

"You killed my family, but you didn't kill him, and his, all those years ago. Didn't try to kill him, or the woman who would become his wife. If I can't have my family, or my happiness…" She shrugged. Ardeth strode towards her and she stepped back away from him, retreating until he was stood in the middle of the room and she upon the first stone step leading up to the throne where she'd first been sat. Unbeknown to Ardeth, he now stood in the centre of a circle marked by coloured tiles set onto the floor.

"I did try to kill them. I failed".

Rebecca just shrugged.

"Tell me something. Why is it that you wish to become a god? You already have so much power."

"This is nothing. So I can make things happen within a few feet of me. That isn't true power. Knowledge is. I want to know everything, and soon I can. Gods are omnipotent. I don't care about physical power." Then she smiled, tilting her head sideways again, playing with her hair. "Not much, anyway. It's useful, if you want revenge. But that's not what I'm pursuing. Knowledge is my life's pursuit."

She glanced upwards. "It's time." She reached down, grasping the knife from her belt, pulling it from the sheath. Ardeth tensed himself, preparing to leap to the side, but a force reached out, taking hold of him, preventing him from moving, keeping him in the centre of the circle.

Rebecca glanced towards the two men who were still stood near Rick's body, gazing vaguely down at Jonathon. Little expression crossed their dull faces. "Hold him" she said softly, gesturing towards Jonathon.

As Jonathon's grief finally released a hold on him, and he tensed, preparing to fight against the men, Rebecca killed Ardeth, stabbing him through the heart. As she pulled out the knife, as Ardeth fell to the ground, storm clouds suddenly coalesced in flawless blue sky, and a bolt of lightning shot down, striking Rebecca. Who smiled. Chunks of broken roof, fractured where the lightning had shot to the ground, crashed around her, and the pendant at her neck shone with a luminous blue light.

As the men reached down, and one grasped Jonathon, he prepared himself for the course of action he was about to undertake. It was not one he usually like to think of, but desperate times called for desperate measures…

Shouting wildly he sprang upwards, throwing off the mans arm, and kneeing him firmly in the groin. The man gave an agonised groan and sank to his knees. Jonathon quickly grabbed the gun form the mans belt - a gun he recognised as Rick's, which the man had obviously confiscated - and, squeamishly, shot both men, one upright and trying to back away, one kneeling and heedless to the world. Just another thing he didn't like - killing - but he supposed that in this situation they deserved it.

Then he turned, and carefully sighted the gun at the girl … and hesitated. What would he have done, all those years ago, if the Med-jai had succeeded in killing Evy? If they'd killed her on the boat, while he'd managed to escape? Could he really blame this girl for taking revenge?

He stared at the beautiful young woman as she stood, surrounded in a luminous stream of power that came from the heavens, a smile on her lips … and the body of his dead friend at her feet, the corpse of his brother in law lying only a few feet away. He set his mouth, and fired.


	10. Understanding

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 10 - Understanding

The bullet disintegrated in a flare of light as it reached the corona surrounding the young woman. Dumbfounded he fired again. And again. Once more he fired, desperately trying to have some effect, only to realise, with the hollow click that echoed through the chamber, that the gun was finally out of bullets. A six shot gun, Rick must have fired three outside.

The lightning bolt finally ended, and the chamber rang with the aftermath. The chamber was dark now - the storm clouds still covering the sky blotted out any sight of the sun. He took a deep breath and, dropping the useless gun, began to advance towards the woman who stood, apparently lost in thought, staring at Ardeth's body.

He stopped when she looked up. 

So much power, so much knowledge. Rebecca's face twisted with pain as she tried to find some way of coping with it all. The power and knowledge of a god flooded through her, overwhelmed her, and was finally mastered. She drew in a deep, ragged breath, and smiled at Jonathon, then tossed the knife away. It clattered against the stone walls, and fell to the ground.

I did it." Her voice echoed through the chamber, made the walls and floor tremble with the controlled power she held.

"Congratulations." Jonathan's voice was bitter, his heart frozen.

"Believe it or not, I am sorry. It is always hard to lose those you care about. But, truly, Jonathon. You don't need them. You don't need anyone. I know you - there is so much you could achieve, if you wanted to. If you tried.." She smiled, but there was an uneasy, ragged edge to her smile. She lifted her hand, brushing her hair away from her face.

"You don't know me" Jonathon said hoarsely, glaring at her. "You don't know anything about me, except what other people have told you, and what you've decided for yourself."

Rebecca gave him a sharp smile. "I know everything." Again she lifted her hand, brushing her fingers lightly against her forehead as if trying to smooth away, before again tugging at her hair. She knew everything. She could hear Jonathon's voice, could see the chamber before her, but she could also "hear" Jonathon's thoughts, hear the mind of everyone, blurring into one great echo of sounds. She could "See" everywhere, could glance at the floor and see people, and places - everything that occurred. Gods were omnipotent - they knew everything, and now, so did she.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, to focus on the man stood before her. His mind was clear - singing a song of doubt, and fear, and desperate courage. She frowned at what lay beneath it - fear of her, hatred, anger at what she'd done. She looked deeply into his eyes, wondering what to do with him.

Jonathon stared into her eyes, frozen by fear and doubt. He had no idea what to do. Her eyes were so beautiful, so captivating. He wanted to give up. What was to be gained from fighting a god? Her eyes shimmered in the gloom. Such a beautiful colour - he'd never seen anything like it before, except … on the pendant. He glanced away from her eyes, down towards the pendant. Where before the stone had shimmered in the sun, now it flared brightly in the dark, pulsing with malevolent light. A sudden desperate hope shot through his mind, and as he saw the quizzical frown begin on the woman's face Jonathon reacted. 

He hit her.

Rebecca reeled backwards in shock, mortal instincts taking over a second as her eyes teared with pain and shock. And before she could recover and bring her power to bear, Jonathon lunged forwards and grabbed the pendant, ripping it from around her neck as she stumbled off balance, and fell to the floor.

The look of shock and horror on her face told Jonathon that he had guessed right, that the power wasn't in her, but rather in the pendant she wore. The golden snakes encasing the stone seemed to writhe in his hands, and as he stared in fascination the stone began to change colour, changing from dark blue to … the colour of his eyes. As the stone laid claim to Jonathon he felt the power surge through him. With this he could achieve anything - become whatever he wanted. Dark voices whispered through his mind, snaring him, seducing him. A sound made him look up, to see that the woman had climbed to her feet, had unsheathed her sword and even now began to attack him.

Carelessly he used his new found power to throw her away - the force flung her back against the opposite wall with bone crushing force and holding her there for a moment before slowly sliding to the floor - a gruesome parody of the way she had treated Ardeth. She lay on the floor, moaning softly in pain from what felt like a broken arm, a fractured ankle. But even with her mind fogged with pain it was, for the first time in years, clear in another way.

She understood now why the god had been killed, so long ago. Because he was insane. And along with his insanity he had possessed absolute power, which had bred absolute, insane corruption. Somehow, some part of him had been in the pendant, and when she had taken it, she had gained that power, and that insanity. He was that which had led her to try and become a god.

She began to cry softly. She hadn't wanted this. She'd wanted revenge, yes, but not at the cost of everything else. It was Ardeth she'd hated, and the Med-jai, but not everyone else. She recalled the shy, quiet and misunderstood girl she'd been all those years ago, and despaired of what she'd become. Of what she'd done. But perhaps it wasn't too late.


	11. Resolution

Disclaimer: Of the characters I can claim only very few of them as my own - namely Rebecca. I do not make any claim on the characters featuring in "The Mummy".

Chapter 11 - Resolution

Rebecca dragged herself upright, biting her lip at the pain that flared down her arm and through her leg. Jonathon was stood in the middle of the chamber, a cruel, abstracted smile on his face. Now he had the power, and the insanity of a god. She could see it flowing through him. She wished that she at least had the power's she'd possessed before she'd killed Ardeth, but even they were denied to here, coming as they had from the pendant even before it had been fully awakened.

She stared at Ardeth. His death had been everything that she had once wished for - agonisingly cruel and painful. She shivered in the cooling air. Revenge was not what she had expected it to be.

"Admiring your handiwork?" Jonathon smiled sardonically at the young woman, who huddled against the wall.

"No. I was just thinking." She looked up at Jonathon. "About what I said - about my life being fractured. It struck me that I'm not the only one. His was too. I … saw it in your mind, before. He was an honourable man, despite everything that he did. It hurt him cruelly."

Jonathon laughed. "He was just good at his job."

"No. I've watched him for years, planning my revenge. I saw the pain he went through, the regret when he had to kill those who were innocent, his guilt at the deaths of his men. Then, I didn't care. But now … I don't think his life was much happier then mine. It wasn't a complete life."

Jonathon just shrugged

"And what about you?" she asked softly. "Where is your loving wife? Your children? Your life is at least as incomplete as mine. What do you do when your sister and her family are together? Much as you might wish it, your life is not what it could be?"

"It will be now" Jonathon said, eyes gleaming, brandishing the pendant that hung in his fist.

"Much as I hate to admit it, power isn't the answer. It can make your life better, but what about everyone else's? All the other people whose lives are as fractured as ours? To make them better we have to work at it, not just find some quick answer. I thought I could, but I was wrong. I can see that now, for the first time." She coughed, choking on the dusty air, and then smiled raggedly. "Besides, what would do with all this power?"

Jonathon looked around. The chamber was dark and cold now, the storm clouds in the sky blocking out the sun so completely that it might never have existed. He looked down at the bodies of his friends and family, and that tired young girl who lay against the wall, at once beautiful chamber which had been partly destroyed in the pursuit of power.

"I could never have given it up. I had too many grudges to bear. But you're different Jonathon. I said so, and I did mean it." She pulled in another ragged breath, feeling broken ribs in her chest breaking together. "Can you imagine what it would be like? To have all the power of a god, with all the understanding of human nature, and all that a human nature is capable of? It would be worse than any god which was never human, which never truly understood humanity."

Jonathon stood there in the dark and the cold, while a chill wind blew across his face, and dark whispers echoed through his mind. And the voice of Evelyn, back in Cairo, standing with her son and wondering at the change in the weather. He could see her so clearly. He could have that - a son and wife of his choosing. This power made it lie in his grasp…

He held the pendant at arms length, and stared at it. The stone was cloudy now, dark and sullen, as if feeling his indecision. "All this, for nothing." He glanced once more at the bodies of the dead.

"It doesn't have to be. You could bring them back."

Jonathon stared at her in amazement, and then shook his head. "You need the Book of the Dead to do that."

"You're a god, Jonathon. You can do anything." Rebecca coughed raggedly, blood trickling down her chin. Jonathon stared at her for a moment longer, then started towards her in concern. "I'll do you first" he said, reaching for the power within his mind. Strangely, now that his act was for others, rather than for himself, the voices from the stone were fading away.

"I'll keep" Rebecca said softly. "You do the others first." He looked at her curiously, then a kind of understanding entered his eyes. As he turned away, and knelt beside Ardeth, Rebecca lifted from the ground the knife she had tossed away, the knife she had used to begin this. As she lifted the knife she tilted her head towards the sky, and smiled. She seemed to see a break in the clouds, could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, they way she'd felt it the first morning she'd seen Hamunaptra rise with the morning sun.

As Ardeth pulled in a deep, shaky breath, Jonathon patted him on the shoulder. He stood up and moved quickly towards Rick, heart lightning as he did so. He knelt down and brought Rick back to life. He wasn't sure how he did so, was too overjoyed to see it worked to care. In turn Rick drew in his first breath, like Ardeth no longer marked with wounds of any kind.

Jonathon stood up, satisfied, considering the pendant that swung in his hand. "Perhaps there is something in this whole god business after all" he commented, turning towards the woman. And stopped. She lay against the wall, sightless blue eyes staring into the distance, her hand at her side, the knife fallen from her fingers. The smile on her lips was sad, but sweet.

He slowly walked towards her, and knelt down beside her. He reached out his hand, touching her shoulder, preparing to bring her back to life … and then stopped. If it was death she had truly wanted, tehn who was he to deny her that. He sighed, then gently closed her eyes. Resting his hand on her shoulder again, he reached out with the power. He body slowly faded away.

Jonathon sighed again, then carefully eased himself up. "I never even knew her name" he whispered softly. He took a deep breath, then raised the pendant high in the air. Images flickered through his mind - everything he could have if he wanted, everything he'd lose if he did this, what he could have become. He threw the pendant down. It hit the broken rock that had once made the roof, and shattered. The shards scattered across the floor, and were lost.

He took a deep breath, and smiled as he felt the touch of sunlight on his cheek, glanced up to see that the storm clouds had left as if they never were. "I know exactly what I could have become" he told the empty sky. "And it's lucky for me now that I won't."

He turned and waited in the chamber, waiting for those he had saved to wake up, and wondering what he would tell them when they did.

As the three men left the chamber, two not quite able to remember what had occurred before, and laughingly unwilling to accept that the third could accept all credit, the third to quiet for them to easily understand, the sunshine shone though the broken roof, glinting on what had been left behind - the hilt of a fractured sword, memorial to a girl with a fractured life.


End file.
